


Who Will Be My Valentine?

by liairene



Series: A Visitor's Guide to Highbury [19]
Category: Persuasion - Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Modern Era, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22726738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liairene/pseuds/liairene
Summary: Elsa Bennet-Darcy doesn't really care about Valentine's Day. Marianne Dashwood really cares about it.
Relationships: Anne Elliot/Frederick Wentworth, Elinor Dashwood/Edward Ferrars, Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy
Series: A Visitor's Guide to Highbury [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/908481
Kudos: 34





	Who Will Be My Valentine?

Elsa Bennet-Darcy was standing behind the counter at the Knit Wit. She was ready to wait on any customers who came through the door, but as was her wont, she had her knitting with her to occupy her quiet moments. When the doorbell jangled, she looked up from the purple sweater on her needles to see Ed Ferrars ambling into the shop. She smiled at him, and he immediately asked, “Have you been outside yet today?”

“This morning,” she replied. “I haven’t left the shop since this morning though.”

He nodded. “So you haven’t seen the Audrey’s window yet today?”

She shook her head. “What has Marianne done now?”

“It looks like cotton candy blew up in there.”

“Oh goody.”

“Well, you know how Marianne feels about Valentine’s Day.”

Elsa rolled her eyes. “I’m sure that her mother helped her out on it this year.”

“Oh, yeah, I can’t imagine that Marianne could do that by herself this year.”

Marianne Dashwood had broken her leg in a car accident a month earlier, and she was milking it for all that she could. Mostly, that meant she got her mother to do things for her. James and Nora tried to help as much as they could, but Nora was busy with work and James with school. Furthermore, neither James nor Nora had much patience for their sister’s tendencies to the melodramatic.

“Well, there’s only two weeks until Valentine’s Day,” Elsa said with a shrug. “Hopefully it won’t drive us all out of our minds.”

“Marianne hasn’t managed that yet.”

Elsa’s eyebrows flashed up and down in a way that was entirely her own; Ed knew from years of experience that it meant that she didn’t agree with him but wasn’t about to tell him so. Then she blinked before changing the conversation. “So, what brings you in here today? You don’t usually come in at lunchtime.”

“Nora forgot her lunch.”

“So you’re taking her lunch?”

“Meeting her for lunch actually,” he replied. “She should be here any second now.”

“Nora’s late?” Elsa asked.

Ed laughed. “No, I’m fairly certain that she’s never been late to anything in her life. I’m just a few minutes early.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“I had a meeting out of the office this morning,” Ed continued. “So I came here straight from Weston’s.”

“You meet with Ron Weston at the store?”

“I do.”

“So why do I have to meet with you at your office?”

He shrugged. “I prefer to meet with my clients at the office. We all do. Also, your office is the size of my closet at home, and my office is big enough for more than one full-grown human being.”

“Annie and I fit in our office just fine.”

“But only one of you is a full-grown human being.”

Elsa made a face. “Are you calling me short?”

Ed was saved from answering by the chiming of the bell over the door and his girlfriend’s entrance into the shop. Nora was bundled up in a heavy black coat and a light purple hat that she was taking off as the door closed behind her.

“It’s cold out there.” Snow fell to the floor as she took her coat off.

“Welcome to winter in northern Michigan,” Ed replied cheerfully.

She glared at her boyfriend. “I’m a native. I’m familiar with our weather patterns. But familiarity doesn’t mean that I can’t complain sometimes.”

He smiled. “Hey, you’re talking to someone who grew up near Chicago. I know a thing or two about lake effect winter.”

“Yes, but presumably you never wore a dress out in that snow.”

“Hey, no one told you that you had to wear a dress today.”

Behind the counter, Elsa had resumed knitting. Her eyes were on her friends rather than her knitting, but she was deftly working stitch after stitch-knit, purl, knit, purl-without missing a beat.

“You know that I prefer dresses.”

“Then you know the risks associated with them.”

Nora sighed. “Do we really need to argue about this?”

Ed shrugged. “I don’t think we need to.”

“Then please stop,” Elsa inserted. “You’re acting far too much like Will and me, and we all know that’s a bad beginning to anything.”

Nora rolled her eyes. “Heaven help us if Ed and I start acting like your absurd husband and you. How did he propose to you again?”

The shop owner’s eyes went down to her knitting. “I’m not going to go through this with you two again.”

“I think the phrase ‘fight me’ was involved,” Ed told his girlfriend.

She pursed her lips and nodded. “You know, Ed, I don’t know think that’s exactly what he said.”

“But there was a _Much Ado_ reference, wasn’t there?”

Elsa rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t in the proposal. That was after.”

“But there was a good amount of Beatrice and Benedick in that evening as I recall,” Nora commented sweetly.

The café owner sighed. “Are you two going to order or pick on me?”

“Both,” Ed replied flatly. “Honestly, both sound good to me.”

“So Ed will have a bacon turkey avocado with chips and pickle and a cup of tea to drink, and Nora will have a Caprese panini with a fruit cup and a cup of coffee.”

“You’re good,” Ed muttered.

She shrugged as she entered the order in the computer. “You’re predictable.”

“I’m not sure that I like the sound of that.”

“You’re Ed Ferrars, the most dependable man I know. And that’s a good thing.”

He shrugged. “Many women use those words in a negative context.”

“I don’t,” Nora remarked. “I think of those are stellar recommendations. I’m glad that my friends describe my boyfriend as predictable and dependable.”

Ed wrapped an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders. “I do strive to be dependable.”

“It’s a good trait in a man,” Elsa said. “Now, you owe me $20.10. Do the predictable thing and give me your credit card.”

The predictable man shook his head before handing over his credit card.

* * *

A few hours later, Elsa was still knitting behind the counter when the other Dashwood sister banged through her door. Marianne’s bright red winter coat was unzipped over her yellow and gray striped dress and gray leggings. Her left leg was in a bright red cast, and she’d decorated the pads of her crutches with cheerful red fabric.

“Hey, Marianne,” Elsa said as she looked up from her knitting. “What can I do for you?”

The chubby blonde made her way to the counter. “I need to talk to you about Valentine’s Day.”

“You do? I thought that was between Will and me.”

Marianne rolled her eyes. “You know what I’m talking about. I want to talk to you about putting a special holiday display in your front window.”

“Do you want to have a seat? I can get you a cup of tea on the house and we can talk about this.”

“That’d be lovely,” Marianne hobbled towards a table near the counter. “But you really should do a Valentine’s display in the window this year.”

“Why?”

“You put up a Christmas tree at Christmas.”

Elsa shrugged as she handed a mug of tea to Marianne. “That’s the only holiday display thing that I do in that window all year. The Tolstoy quotation stays the same year in and year out. The twinkle lights are always up. And that’s all of the holiday spirit that I put in that window.”

“But you could do something different this year. You’re married. Annie is getting married. Wouldn’t it be cool to show how that’s changing the Knit Wit?”

“I’m not sure that it is changing the Knit Wit in the way that you think it is. Yes, I’m married and Annie will be soon. But I don’t think that will change the shop that much.”

“But you could do a display of books with red covers or romance novels or Nicholas Sparks books.”

Elsa came back to the table with her own mug of tea. “Marianne, first I need to remind you that I can’t make any decisions like this on my own.”

“But you can talk to Annie about it.”

“I can, but I can also tell you that I don’t think that she’ll like it.”

Marianne sighed. “Why not? I think it could be fun and romantic.”

“And if you want to do that at your store, I think that’s a great idea. But that’s not really how this place works. We’ll do a focus on red and pink yarns, and we’ll make our special Valentine’s Day treats and drinks. But we’re not going to put a special display in the window.”

“I don’t understand how you’re married and I’m not. You have no sense of romance.”

Elsa leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath. “Have you met my husband? William Darcy isn’t exactly what I’d call Mr. Romance.”

Marianne sighed. “I don’t get that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Grant is suave and charming, but we’re not really together. I like charming men. I encouraged him. And he’s vanished since the accident. But Will Darcy is nerdy and weird and insulted you the first time you met. And you married him!”

“He called my shop quaint,” Elsa sighed. “He wasn’t entirely wrong.”

“Okay but now he works here when you need him to pick up a shift. He supports you. He loves this place. I can’t get Grant near Audrey’s.”

“Will chooses to invest around here because he sees what this place means to me,” Elsa began gently. “Part of being in a relationship is choosing to invest in the things that your partner is interested in. Emma doesn’t care about soccer, but it matters to George, so she watches it with him and she goes to all of his games. Annie hates war movies, but she watches them once in a while with Erik because he likes them. I know all about Will’s fantasy football team because he cares about it. I go to baseball games because it makes him happy. I don’t like baseball anymore than Emma likes soccer.”

“Are you saying that Grant isn’t interested in me?” Marianne interrupted.

Her companion shrugged. “I don’t know him well enough to know. What I know is that if he is he should show interest in the things that matter to you.”

“Well, all that I know is that Grant won’t even text me anymore. Ever since the accident it’s like I don’t exist.”

Elsa looked at Marianne. “Why do you want to be with him then?”

“Well, I don’t want to be alone. Surely you get that.”

“Mare, I was alone for ages before I met Will. I lived.”

“But you’re different. You don’t mind that sort of thing.”

Elsa’s eyebrows flashed. “I don’t?”

“I never thought you seemed to mind being single.”

“Do you think that Nora minded being single?”

“She always acted like she was jealous of me having Grant, but she never really complained about being single.”

Elsa took a deep breath before answering. “You never heard her complain about being single, but how often does your sister complain about anything?”

Marianne sighed. “Nora isn’t an emotional person. She doesn’t complain. She just takes life as it comes. I’m not that kind of person. As far as I can tell, it’s a lot easier to be Nora than it is to be me.”

“I suppose that’s a matter of perspective.” Elsa didn’t want to get into a conversation with Marianne about Nora’s emotions. They’d never have a productive discussion about a subject on which they’d never agree.

“I’m just frustrated, Elsa. You haven’t been through what I’ve been through.”

“Fair enough.”

“I just hate being single, Elsa. I don’t think it’s fair that you get to be married to Will when you don’t care about romance or love.”

“I care about love. I’m just not terribly sentimental, Marianne.”

“And you’re married to Will!”

“Will Darcy is NOT a romantic man. He proposed to me in my living room when I was wearing my pajamas. He asked me out for our first date because Erik told him to. I have no guarantees that he’ll remember our anniversary.”

Marianne made a face. “And you married him?”

“He cleans that cats’ litter box. He sets up the coffeemaker before he goes to bed each night so there’s fresh coffee when I wake up in the morning. He does laundry sometimes.”

“Does he ever send you flowers?”

Elsa shrugged. “Occasionally, it’s not a regular thing, but I don’t mind. I think I like that more actually.”

* * *

That evening, Elsa went home to the house that she shared with Will and their two cats. After quitting her coat and boots, she made her way to the kitchen where she found her husband cooking dinner. His sweater and tie hung over the back of a chair and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Elsa wrapped her arms around Will’s slender but sturdy waist and took a deep breath. “What smells so good?”

“Beef stew,” he replied. “It’ll be done pretty soon.”

“No, I think what smells so good is the smell of my husband making me dinner after a long day of work.”

Will chuckled before turning around to face his wife. “How was your day?”

“Long,” she replied. “I taught two classes, held office hours, and then spent the rest of the day at the café until I left it in James’s capable hands for dinner and closing. How was yours?”

“It would bore you. I dealt with numbers and spreadsheets. And I had a few meetings.”

“Blech,” she replied.

He smiled. “I thought you liked meetings.”

Elsa rolled her eyes. “William, you know full well that I don’t like meetings at all. You also know that I’m not nearly as friendly or as social as people tend to think that I am.”

“I love that about you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I love that people think that you’re this warm friendly Disney princess with just the faintest touch of snark.”

“When really that’s Gwen,” Elsa concluded.

“Gwen isn’t snarky.”

“Okay, but she is a warm, friendly Disney princess.”

“Truth; you, on the other hand, are all snark.”

“It’s good for you, babe.”

Will shrugged. “I like your snark. And I think that it’s good for a lot of people.”

* * *

“So I had a weird experience at the café today,” Elsa said once they were seated at the table.

“What happened?”

“Marianne came to see me.”

Will raised his eyebrows. “May I ask why?”

“She wants Annie and me to decorate the café for Valentine’s Day.”

“Does she know how you feel about Valentine’s Day?”

“Clearly not,” she sighed.

“So you’re not decorating the café for Valentine’s Day?”

Elsa snorted. “I told her that I would put pink and red yarn on special discount.”

“Like you always do.”

“Right, and we’ll have our usual cherry and raspberry mochas and hot cocoas. I’ll make the conversation heart cookies like always, we’ll have the tarts, and Annie will do the bagels.”

“That’s plenty of Valentine’s Day if you ask me.”

Elsa nodded.

“Did that make Marianne happy?”

“I don’t know if anything really makes her happy right now. After we covered how I’m going to celebrate Valentine’s Day at the shop, she started in on my personal life.”

“She wants to know what we’re doing for Valentine’s Day?”

“Yes.”

Will sighed. “It’s a Thursday this year?”

“Friday.”

“Oh, right,” he said pushing his glasses up his nose. “So what? You’ll work through close, I’ll probably help you with it, and then we’ll have a glass of wine before going to bed at ten?”

“Marianne would not approve of that.”

He shook his head. “And we care what she thinks?”

“I doubt that we do much that she’d approve of. I know that she thought our wedding was underwhelming.”

“Our wedding was underwhelming? We had a lovely church service and a simple but elegant reception at your parents’ hotel. Your bridesmaids wore dresses, you looked stunning, and there were flowers. It was pretty wonderful.”

Elsa laughed. “Our bridesmaid wore dresses. Well done, Will. I’m glad you remember that a month later. I can’t wait to see what you remember ten years from now.”

Will smiled at his wife. “Hey, I put on a nice suit. I was at the church on time. I got to marry you. As far as I’m concerned, that’s all that matters.”

“Marianne can’t believe that we’re married when neither of us is romantic.”

“What?”

“She seemed angry or disappointed that you don’t give me flowers very often, but it was even worse when I told her that it didn’t bother me.”

“I wouldn’t have married a woman who expected me to bring her flowers every Friday or whatever.”

“I know.” Elsa squeezed her husband’s hand. “If I was the kind of woman who wanted flowers every Friday, I wouldn’t have ever considered marrying you.”

“My charm and good looks aren’t enough to overrule Fridays without flowers?”

“They were for me,” she answered. “Will, they are for me.”

He smiled. “That’s why I married you.”

“Will, that’s one reason. But you know what else? You clean the cats’ litter boxes for me. You vacuum without me suggesting it. You work Saturday mornings in the café. You’re not a man of grand gestures. You’re a man of simple gestures, but those matter more to me. I’d rather have you set up the coffeemaker every night before bed than get a dozen red roses ever.”

“It’s cheaper to set up the coffeemaker every night than it would be to buy you flowers.”

Elsa rolled her eyes. “Either way, Marianne doesn’t approve, but I don’t care what she thinks about that. I know what makes me happy.”

“And it’s a man who makes coffee for you despite the fact that you own a coffee shop?”

“I think that’s tremendously attractive.”

Will ran a hand over his face before resting his chin on said hand. “Elsa, you’re a very unique woman.”

“I like to think that I’m not THAT unique.”

“I’m not calling you weird. I’m just saying that you’re your own person. There’s no one else quite like you, and I love that.”

* * *

Valentine’s Day rolled around with all of the pink fluff and folderol that is due to the day. It was a Friday, which meant that Elsa would open the shop with James Dashwood. He was waiting for her when she arrived to unlock the door, leaning against the front window with his nose in a book. “For pleasure or for class?” asked as she opened the door.

James flashed a copy of Steinbeck’s _East of Eden_ in her face after following her into the shop. “What do you think?”

Elsa snatched the book out of his hand and looked at me. “It’d be pleasure to me, but for you, that’s definitely class.”

“I can’t stand Steinbeck,” James answered as he took the book back.

“I know. I’ve heard,” Elsa called unsympathetically as she fluttered around turning on lights and opening curtains.

“You just think that I should give him another chance.”

“Well, you’ve only ever given him one.”

“And one was enough.”

“You didn’t even read the whole book!”

“Aren’t you always telling my sister that one chance is enough?”

Elsa walked into her office, turned the light on, and hung her coat up in her closet. She then came back to the cash register and began setting it up for the morning before speaking. “The advice that I give your sister with regards to Grant Willoughby is radically different to any advice that I’d give you with regards to John Steinbeck. Books and your sister’s romantic meanderings do not fall under the same advice let alone fall on the same planet.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that I didn’t like _Grapes of Wrath_ in high school either. I did like _The Pearl_ in middle school, but you’ve never read that, have you?”

“No.”

“Give _East of Eden_ a try.”

“Next you’re going to tell me to give Grant Willoughby a try.”

Elsa snorted as she flipped the sign from “closed” to “open.” “It may be Valentine’s Day and all, Jamie-boy, but there will never a world in which I’ll do that. Like I said, Steinbeck and your sister’s parade of yo-ho Romeos do not belong on the same planet.”

“From now on, I want my sister’s romantic interests to be called nothing but her parade of yo-ho Romeos. That’s brilliant.”

His boss grinned at him. “I’m pretty sure that Nora came up with it a long time ago when she was complaining about some previous fascination of your sister’s.”

“She would,” he replied with a laugh. “Now, I have to ask you a serious question.”

“Yerp?” Elsa squeaked.

“How much trouble am I going to be in for wearing this outfit?” The college junior gestured to his jeans and navy blue cardigan over a white t-shirt ensemble.

“You mean because it’s Valentine’s Day and you’re not wearing red or pink?” Elsa was wearing a pink sweater-dress that she’d knit herself a few years earlier.

He nodded.

“You’re fine with Annie and me, but your sister might give you a hard time.”

He sighed. “She does know that I’m a college boy?”

“If you said that to her, you know that she’d just tell you that college boys can be romantic too.”

“Not this one.”

“I know that,” Elsa told him. “And I know all of your sister’s comebacks for that line. So basically, I’d advise you to not have the conversation with her.”

“So what should I do when she inevitably complains that I’m not wearing pink or red?”

“Tell her that it’s not St. Patrick’s Day and no cupids are going to pinch you for not wearing pink and red.”

James smiled. “I like that line. I think that I’m going to use it sometime.”

“Please do.”

* * *

Marianne hobbled into the café a little after nine. She was wearing a bright pink dress over a pair of red tights festooned with pink and white hearts, and her bright red headband was adorned with sparkly hearts. “Happy Valentine’s Day to all!”

“Hey, Marianne,” her brother replied.

“Jamie, look at you. What are you wearing?”

“Clothes,” he replied. “The socially acceptable option for going out of doors.”

She sighed. “It’s Valentine’s Day!”

“And I’m a single college boy. Why do I care?”

“Because you work in the service industry,” she replied as she sat down. “People can see you, James!”

“I know that people can see me. But I don’t want to wear pink.”

“Then wear red.”

“My red shirt is in the hamper.”

That elicited another sigh. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Love me.”

“Elsa, back me up on this.”

Elsa emerged from the stacks of books. “On what?”

“My brother is hopeless.”

“Because he won’t wear pink or red on Valentine’s Day?”

“Exactly!”

Elsa shrugged. “He wears green on St. Patrick’s Day.”

“But that’s different. That’s not going to get him a girlfriend.”

“I don’t hear him complaining.”

“My brother is a smart, kind attractive guy. Why is he single?”

“I don’t know,” Elsa said as she walked back to the books. “Ask him.”

Marianne turned her attention back to her brother. “Why are you single?”

“Mare, I’m a full-time college student, I work here, and I play football. When do I have time for a girlfriend?”

“I begin to despair of you, James.”

“Don’t despair of me yet, big sis. I’m not even twenty-one.”

“You won’t be young forever,” she cautioned.

He rolled his eyes. “Raspberry mocha and a Valentine’s muffin, Marianne?”

“Please.”

“I’ll even carry it back to the shop for you.”

* * *

Elsa worked until two when she went home, telling Annie “I need a nap.”

“Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m just really tired.”

“You have been burning the candle at both ends lately.”

“I know.”

“And you didn’t have a proper rest over your winter break.”

Elsa leaned her head against the filing cabinet. “I know, Mom. I’m just going to go lay down for a bit. I’ll be back around four.”

“I’ll be here.”

* * *

True to her word, Elsa was back at the café shortly before four o’clock. “How late are you staying, Annie?”

“Six, Chris is making Erik take the night off to spend it with me, so he’s making me dinner tonight.”

Elsa smiled. “Right, nice.”

“What about you? What are you two doing tonight?”

“I’m here until close, and then we’re having dinner.”

“And you’re telling him?”

She nodded. “I have to. And I want to.”

Annie smiled. “I’m so excited for you.”

Elsa grinned. “I’m excited too.”

* * *

Annie left at six, and shortly after, Marianne appeared in the café. “The world is a terrible place, Elsa.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Mare. I thought you loved Valentine’s Day.”

Marianne sighed loudly as she flopped into a chair. “You wouldn’t get it. You’re married.”

“Yes, and we were friends long before I ever met Will. Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Grant didn’t call. He didn’t text. He didn’t send flowers. I think that he’s forgotten about me.”

“Oh Marianne,” Elsa sighed.

“I thought we had something, Elsa. I really thought that he was the one.”

Elsa sat down next to her. “I’m sorry.”

“He’s not a bad guy, Elsa. He’s just…I don’t know. But I love him.”

“How long have you two been together?”

Marianne sighed. “It’s been on and off for a long time, since college.”

“How old are you, Mare?”

“Twenty-seven.”

Elsa looked at Marianne. “When was the last time that you saw him or talked to him?”

“The night of the accident.”

“When was that?”

“Six weeks ago.”

Elsa looked firmly at Marianne. “I don’t need to tell you what I’m thinking, do I?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Elsa. Have a heart!”

Her friend took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m not going to tell you what to do. It’s your life, not mine.”

“But you don’t like Grant.”

“This is all between you and him. I’m just going to take my nose and keep it out of your business.”

Marianne sighed. “I just don’t want to be single, Elsa.”

“I know, but I can’t change Grant.”

“Why can’t he just be the nice amazing guy of my dreams?”

“I don’t know. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s just not fair. I don’t like being single, and I love romance. But I can’t get Grant to commit. And you’re all whatever about romance, and you’ve got Will for life.”

Elsa smiled. “Life is just funny that way.”

“I don’t think that I’d want to be with Will or Erik or Ed or anybody like that. I want someone who can give a girl flowers and make grand gestures. And there’s nobody in my life like that.”

Elsa could think of a man who was like that, but she wasn’t about to bring Chris Brandon up with Marianne. “I wish that I had something encouraging to say, but everything that I can think of at the moment sounds like a crappy greeting card.”

A smile crept onto Marianne’s face. ”Thanks for trying.”

“I’m always happy to listen and to try to make you smile.”

“I appreciate that.”

Elsa stood up as she saw her husband walking towards the shop. “Dare I ask what your Valentine’s Day plans are?”

“Dinner with Mom, the usual lame thing.”

“Hey, your mom is great.”

“We’re just going to the Green Dragon. It’s nothing special.”

“Hey, we’re just going to have soup and sandwiches or leftovers.”

Marianne shook her head. “You guys are boring.”

“We know.”

* * *

It was around nine o’clock when Will and Elsa finally made it back to their apartment, and they were both tired. “I’m not cooking,” Will said flatly.

His wife hung up her coat before replying. “I didn’t think that was ever part of the plan.”

“Leftovers and a bottle of wine?”

“I’m game for the leftovers, but I’ll have to pass on the wine.”

“You’re passing on the wine?”

She nodded. “I am.”

“Are you sure? It’s a good bottle.”

“That may be, but I’m going to have to pass on the wine until sometime in October.”

Will looked at her. “October?”

“Yeah.”

“Elsa, is this your way of telling me that you’re pregnant?”

She smiled. “It is.”

He grinned. “This is the best Valentine’s Day ever.”

“I know, right?”

He laughed. “Oh, Elsa, I love you.”

“And I love you too.”

* * *

The End...for now.


End file.
